She closed her eyes on him.
“Look Angel this was before you and I met. I’m still not sure it’s even true. Simon’s involved.”
Her eyes snapped open. “What do you mean Simon’s involved? What’s it got to do with him?”
“It seems as if he’s the one that’s given the story to the papers. You know the, so called, ‘close friend’ that the paper mentions is the source.”
She pushed herself up.
“Jonny I love you. I really do, but this has come as such a big shock. It says that you knew and you left her anyway. Haven’t paid a penny towards the child’s upbringing. Left the mother to fend for herself as a single parent. Went off to selfishly build a career. Even that you were seeing me before you left her. I feel like I don’t really know you.”
“I know it says all that. It’s just not true. You’ve got to believe me. I didn’t know about the baby and it was before we got together. If I had of known then…”
“Well you know now. Don’t you?”
“Eliza I love you. None of this changes the way I feel about you.”
“Well maybe it should. You’ve got responsibilities. And as you were just about to say if you had known that you had a son then we wouldn’t have got together.”
She shuffled off the bed.
Jonny grabbed her hand to pull her back.
She shook it free and walked out of the room.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He stood up and kicked the bedside cabinet.
The phone rang again.
This time he threw it, straight at his reflection in the mirror leant up against the wall. Shards of mirrored glass fell onto the carpet, along with his broken phone.
Just to be sure, and as an oxymoron, showing his displeasure at the phone daring to break on him he kicked out at it, sending it flying across the room.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Emotionally numb, he waited patiently. Staring out of the darkened windows of his car, waiting for Helen to show up. They were meeting at a public park. It was a struggle to know where best to meet. Nowhere private, he didn’t trust her. Nor anywhere he would feel trapped or be easily spotted. An open place seemed best.
Jim Bob had made the arrangements. Referring to the place to meet as “next to the bubblers”, or water fountains as Jonny now discovered. Four stainless steel drinking stations of differing heights for park users to quench their thirst at.
He watched zombied mothers pushing prams, joggers sweating out last night’s curry, pensioners walking aged dogs. Everyone seemed to be in their own little world. A good choice, somewhere no-one would notice him. Unfortunately, not quiet enough for him to stab her and throw her into the park leaf incinerator. But hey-ho, he’d made his bed, now he had to lie on it.
He spotted her coming from behind the concrete plinth that the bubblers were mounted on.
“Oh fucking great.” Jonny threw his bottle of water down on the passenger seat in annoyance. He leaned back on the head rest, looking up to the roof of his car. Instructions were to come alone and under no circumstances bring Isaac with her. Simple enough. What was wrong with the woman?
He was in two minds to drive off, but knew that would just put off the inevitable. He pushed his sunglasses onto his nose and pulled his cap down tight. Checking in the rear view mirror before stepping down from the car.
He jogged up to her, pulling on her elbow so she would walk with him down one of the less populated paths.
“I thought you wasn’t bringing him?” he snarled out of the corner of his mouth at her.
“I couldn’t get anyone to look after him. Anyway he needs to meet his dad at some point doesn’t he?”
Jonny didn’t answer, just gritted his teeth.
Glancing down at the little boy holding on to his mother’s hand, Jonny felt confused. Looking back at Helen he wondered how this was all going to work out.
“Come on, let’s walk. I’m warning you though, if there’s any paps around, that’s it, I’m off.”
Jonny paced ahead, forgetting how small Helen was; he was used to Eliza able to keep up with his strides. She trotted behind him, Isaac in tow.
He stopped near one of the small playgrounds in the park. Nodding in the direction of it.
Helen took his heed. “Go on Isaac, go play. Mummy will watch you.”
The little boy ran off eagerly to the roundabouts, seemingly happy enough to approach a couple of other boys playing there.
Jonny and Helen sat down on a low wall; both looking over at the playground.
“Why didn’t you tell me Helen?”
“I did Jonny.”
“When? You told me you thought you was pregnant. You also told me you were going to terminate the pregnancy. What you didn’t tell me was that you had gone through with it. That you… that I, had a son.”
“Well you know now.”
“Bit fucking late isn’t it.”
“You didn’t want to know back then.”
“That’s not exactly true now, is it?”
She rebuked his comment with a look. A look that would easily burn a hole straight through a sheet of steel.
“You should have told me,” he continued, “at the time. Not now.”
“Ha. Priceless.” She fake laughed.
“Anyway, where does Simon fit in with this?”
“I don’t know what you mean?”
Her answer a little too quick for Jonny to believe. “Oh come on Helen. I’m not fucking stupid.”
She crossed her arms, determined not to be drawn on the subject of Simon.
“How do I know the kid’s even mine?”
“Because he is.”
He blew out a breath. “Look, we’re going round in circles here. So what do you want from me Helen?”
“I want you to be a father to Isaac.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s tough bringing a kid up on your own. Especially a boy. He needs a father figure. I also need support. Kids are expensive you know.”
“Money’s not a problem. I’ll set something up. Regular payments. But the father figure thing…”
“You need to be in his life Jonny.”
He looked over at the little boy.
“But I don’t know how to be a father.”
“You’re going to have to learn.”
Jonny snorted.
“I can show you.” She rested her hand on his arm. “I know this is shock and I’m sorry about how it has come out. I didn’t want it to be like this. For you. For Isaac. For us.”
“Us?” He looked hard at her. “There is no us.” Pulling his arm away from her restraint.
“I know that Jonny. I didn’t mean like that. I’m talking about us as parents.”
He pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead and rubbed both palms up and down the dark stubble coating his jaw.
Her mouth fell open at the sight of his blue eyes. She’d not seen them for real since that day at the café. Her voice mellowed, leaning up into him, she suggested, “Why don’t we do something together this weekend. All three of us. Just so you can get to know him a little bit.”
“Like what?” he snapped.
“I don’t know something simple. Go to the fairground or the zoo. Even back here?”
“I don’t know Helen.”
She placed her hand back onto his arm, stroking it up and down in a reassuring way.
“We can just take it slow. Step by step.” Her voice taking on a manipulative, soothing tone.
He pulled his arm away from her. He wasn’t about to get trapped in her lair.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Jonny, look at him. He’s innocent in all this. All I want is for him to have a father.”
He thought about it for a moment. Studying Isaac. His movements. His mannerisms. He was beyond confused.
Abruptly he stood up. “I’ll ring you.” Repositioning his sunglasses and striding off towards his car; not looking back once.
&n
bsp; He drove off. Nowhere in particular to go. He just had to get away from her. The vice of words she had tried cloaking him in.
He didn’t want to take his clouded headspace back to Eliza either.
Driving on auto pilot, he let the car transport him; street after street; not really taking in anything. Even the music on the radio wasn’t registering.
All he could think about was Eliza and how he was going to tell her. How she would react. It had been strained this last week, waiting for the PI to find Helen and then the meeting to be arranged.
Then his thoughts moved to the little boy, Isaac. Looking up at him with big doey brown eyes. Poor kid. He would have to make things right with him. It probably was tough for Helen, bringing a kid up on her own.
Chapter Twenty-Three
They had been meaning to go to one of the exclusive restaurants on the other side of Regents Park, ever since they moved into their new home on Primrose Hill. They missed the civilized evenings out they regularly enjoyed in Amsterdam and the absence of stress they felt right now. Being able to decide on a whim to head out to a café or bar. Or try out a new restaurant. Eat something exotic. Mingle with locals. Socialise. All of those things seemed so alien to them now they were in London.
“This is nice,” she remarked half-heartedly.
She was being distant and he didn’t like it. He wanted to open up to her, to tell how he was feeling. Air the concerns he had about being a father. Ask her advice about Helen and the way she was with him earlier. But, the shutters were down and it was breaking his heart.
“Yes, well I thought we needed this. Whilst the kitchen has been out of action we’ve not been eating very well and also… also, I wanted to sit across a table with you. Talk.” He reached out and touched her hand. It felt cold and lifeless. Out of habit, he twisted the ring on her finger so the diamonds were in the centre.
She looked down at the ring. Both staring at the significance of it. It wasn’t just a piece of expensive jewellery. It was a token. A symbolic representation of their shared love for each other. She was his and he was hers. Supposedly.
The newness of it made his heart heavy. It was only a few weeks ago when they were walking on air. All loved up in their perfect little world.
He didn’t want to have this conversation with her.
He wanted to have meaningless chat about the restaurant or the lack of progress in the house.
He wanted to discuss the wedding.
The honeymoon.
Their future.
Instead he was going to have to talk to her about a different side of his life. One that had only just become a thing.
A significant thing.
His son.
“Eliza,” he started tentatively, “I met with Helen today.”
“Oh?” She looked up into his eyes. The first time all night she had made eye contact with him.
That one look told him he had made a mistake.
Shit.
He should have told her he was going to meet Helen. He had made her feel excluded. As if he was doing stuff behind her back. And there was one thing he knew all women despised and that was their man being devious. Secretive. Especially about something that involved another woman. Or God forbid, an ex.
He didn’t need to have umpteen years of one on one relationships or a degree in marriage guidance to know that.
Never meet your ex-girlfriend without your significant other knowing.
It was enshrined in the unwritten book of successful relationships.
That one look. It told him all that.
“I…I would have told you but I didn’t think you would be interested…,” he tailed off.
That was definitely the wrong thing to say. Not interested. Of course she was fucking interested. She was supposed to be marrying him and spending the rest of her life with him and he said she wouldn’t be interested in a measly little thing like him meeting his son for the first time. And his ex.
The waitress came across with the menus. Well trained, she sussed that they were having a terse conversation and simply placed them on the table and left.
Eliza picked up the menu, studying it from start to finish. Like she was more interested in the food than their life changing conversation.
Oh well. What’s the saying “in for a penny in for a pound”. Jonny continued digging his ever deeper hole. “I’m going to meet him again at the weekend. Get to know him a little.”
She looked up over her menu. “Good. You should.” Then she closed the menu and beckoned to the waitress. “Have you decided Jonny?” she asked curtly.
“Erm…”
Ignoring the fact that he hadn’t chosen yet, she placed her order. “I’ll have a spinach omelette and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.” Handing the menu back to the waitress.
“Ah, yes madam. I’ll ask the chef if he can do an omelette.”
“Is that not even on the menu?” asked Jonny, confused as to why she had been studying it for so long.
She didn’t answer the obvious question. Just gave him a cold condescending look.
“And for you sir?”
“Steak. Fillet steak. Rare.” Jonny deciding not to consider the menu either.
“Anything to go with that sir?”
“No. But I’ll have a bottle of house red.”
Fuck her and her Sauvignon Blanc. He was going full on meat and full bodied red. She was irritating him now. Couldn’t she just understand that he didn’t ask for any of this?
They sat in silence.
Each pouring their own wine.
Looking around at the other couples who all had stuff to say. Those meaningless conversations that restaurants around the world are full of. The sort they would have given anything to have.
Instead here they were. Like monks sworn to silence. Poles apart, with nothing but self-sabotage in their way.
***
He woke up on the sofa. The TV screen an irritating fuzzy haze. Annoyingly happy sunshine blazing through the window.
He put his hand to his head in a vain attempt to stop it falling apart. Looking over at the one litre bottle of Jim Beam, lying empty on its side on the coffee table. Had he really done in all of that? And from the mess in and around the ashtray, and the rawness in his throat, a full packet of Camel too.
He couldn’t remember what had happened when they had got home last night. No recollection of what he had said, but he knew it couldn’t have been good.
He dragged himself into the shell of a kitchen, the walls now taken back to brick. Internal walls missing and steel beams exposed. The fridge stood forlorn in the corner next to a makeshift cupboard and work top. He opened it and grabbed a can of Coke. Draining it in one action. He then squashed the can in his fist and threw it unsuccessfully in the direction of the bin. The clatter on the floor making his head hurt even more.
He had no idea where the headache pills were stashed in this house, or even if they had any. The effort of searching too much to contemplate.
He took a bottle of water from the cupboard and hauled himself up the stairs. Cautiously, he opened the door to their bedroom. The light was subdued in there. The curtains shut, helping calm his sensitive eyes. Eliza was sprawled on top of the duvet, one leg hanging over the side of the bed.
He took off his clothes and lay alongside her. Placing the bottle of water on her bedside table.
She murmured and rolled onto his arm, snuggling into his chest. He took a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating shampoo scent in her hair. His headache dissipated and heart rate slowed. He allowed the muscles holding her into him to relax.
Everything was alright.
As long as they were holding each other.
Everything was alright.
He dozed off, barely asleep when he felt her move. He opened his eyes to register her looking up at him. It wasn’t a look that he wanted to see. They were right back at the restaurant.
She unraveled herself from him, letting his arm slap onto his chest. Takin
g her robe from the chair she wrapped it around herself.
Fuck! He sat up, watching her take some underwear from the drawer. Feeling vulnerable he pulled the duvet over the middle of his body.
“Eliza. What can I say? I’m sorry. What do you want me to do?”
She looked at him sternly, then continued matching bras with panties.
“What are you doing Eliza?”
“Packing,” she replied, as if he was stupid.
“Packing? Packing for what?”
“Amsterdam. I’m going to Amsterdam, as planned. Remember?”
“What now?”
She didn’t reply.
“But I thought with everything going on you would maybe reschedule. Go another time.”
Still no verbal answer.
“Look, I don’t want you to go like this.”
She turned to him. “I’m not going like anything. I’m going to Amsterdam as planned. It will give you some space to get to know Isaac and Helen.”
“Isaac. Just Isaac. I don’t want to get to know Helen.”
“That’s not what you said last night.”
Fuck! What did he say last night?
“Eliza. I love you. This whole thing has been bad timing. Not something I planned. I don’t know what I said last night, but I’m not interested what so ever in anything to do with Helen.”
She nodded without even looking at him.
What does that mean, registering that she was pretty much clearing all her underwear drawer out.
“How long are you going for?”
She shrugged her shoulders. Moving on to the next drawer.
“Are you staying at your aunt’s?”
“No the apartment.”
“The apartment? I thought you’d given notice on that?”
“I’ve asked the landlord if we can hang on to it for a little while longer.”
Fuck. That’s not good. That’s really not good.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
She really wasn’t making this easy for him.
“Why are we hanging onto the apartment?”
“So I’ve got somewhere to go. Leave you to it.”
“I don’t want leaving to it. You are the most important thing in my life Eliza.”
She turned to him, an almost fervent look on her face.
Loving his ANGEL_A Rock Star Romance Page 15